I am so one hundred percent in love with you. You are smart and brave. You are funny and sweet and nerdy. You are dark and sexy and alluring. You know how to make me laugh even when I don’t want to. You make me feel good when I feel worthless. You make my heart race and my cheeks flush. You melt my stress to jello, along with my knees. When I think about how much I love you, I cry. Not out of sadness, but out of my concrete knowledge that you love me back just as much. But you could never love me more than I love you.
I love all the things you do. The way you drive. The way you look at me with the utmost love and confidence when you do. With so much desire, sometimes. I love how your forearms flex and your wrists turn and hands grip the wheel. How they are strong and tan in the summer. How they touch my pale skin.
There is this face you make when you talk to me from your heart—when you speak to me with love and concern and sincerity, and you want me to really hear you. Your entire face softens with a certain craving to be heard that I could never place as one single emotion because there is such a bare, natural, intense feeling behind the skin of it. And your eyes change. They are deeper and they see me. Not just me on the outside or the inside. Me. All that I am. My quirks and thoughts and fears. The clothes I wear, my favorite food and candy and color and drink and weather. My skin, my goals, and the things that make me laugh and cry. The parts of me that no one else will ever find or understand no matter how hard they search. You see my soul. Your voice changes, too. It is soft and longing in an odd, wonderful way. It makes my heart open to you. It makes me listen and hang on every single word and if each one is the final drop of water in the world and if I don’t open myself up to it and catch it, there will be no second chance at survival. You are my life.
I love how you dress. Tuxedos, shorts, one of your many DC hero shirts, a plaid, three-quarter length button-up, or nothing at all. Everything looks so amazing on you.
I love reading next to you at the bookstore or under big blankets on the couch or in bed. It is refreshing and completely replenishes my heart. I love cuddling with you under those same blankets when it is raining or storming. You always keep me safe from the flashes and crashes of not just the weather, but of my ever-changing world. It feels absolutely perfect to hide under all those big blankets with you. To curl up and drink coffee and watch you play video games.
I love that you love me. I love that you do and would do anything for me. I love that you write with me and you don’t have a care in the world what anyone thinks about you. You are my inspiration. You are my hero.
I look back on my life no more than two years and two months ago today. I think about how absolutely different my life would be had you not taken that one step—that first step—back to me. It was God that caused you to do that. He made us for each other. I know I would be unhappy if you never took that leap of faith. I would be lost. I wouldn’t have God, confidence, love, happiness, stability, or security in my life. You are my personal sun. The reason I keep going. My turning page.
I want to thank you for putting up with my daily tears. With my uncertainty and lack of self-confidence. You’re the only thing I have that is constant. That keeps me grounded. That makes me happy. Thank you for being you. I want to thank you for choosing me. You could be with any girl in the world, and you still choose to wake up next to me every single day. I don’t think I’ll ever understand why, but I’m glad you do.
Aristotle said, “Love is composed of a single soul inhabiting two bodies.” I couldn’t agree more. We are the same. We are composed by the same hands, made of the same pieces, filled by the same soul. Loving with the same soul. Thinking about us being soul mates makes me think about past lives. Did we have them? Is there a part of us, deep in the minds of our souls, that remembers those lives? Were our souls together then, too? Did we find each other like we did now? Even before that life? I like to think so. Each life is a new chapter in our shared soul’s book, and we are so far into it. Our soul is so beautifully old. Mature, wise, fragile yet strong, and so wonderfully joined together by our entwined fingers.
I am truly me when I am with you. Not with anyone else. We have no secrets. Nothing to be ashamed of.
Your eyes are like the moon went swimming in the bluest of seas, hair like golden fields of wheat, and skin so stunningly flawless. I love the touch of your tan skin. The words that form in your head, mix with your breath, shape through your tongue, and pass through your lips in smooth, deep strings of glory. I love all of you.
There is no way for me to sum this up well. I can only end knowing that I could continue for pages and pages until no trees are left in the world and there isn’t a dust of lead or drop of ink in existence. Instead of trying to wrap this up in a neat conclusion, I’ll leave you with this;
“Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage.” -Laozi
You give me the strength to have courage. You are my best friend, boyfriend, husband, soul mate, and the love of my life.
-Your best friend, girlfriend, wife, soul mate, and hopefully the love of your life.